Then You Come Crashing In
by hopelessromantic0707
Summary: Finn slept with Santana. Finn slept with Santana. Finn slept with Santana. She keeps replaying the words in her mind and each time, she takes a swig of tequila as more tears run down her cheeks.


**This is my first Puckleberry story. Enjoy!**

Rachel Berry's confused. And she doesn't get confused (at least that's what she tells people). Finn has just flubbed his part of the choreography on "Somebody to Love" for the seventh time in the forty-five minutes they've been practicing. She's had enough.

Pulling her hand from his, she steps away from him and sighs. Everyone else in the room casts glances at one another before focusing anywhere but the two figures currently occupying center stage (Jesse's not there). "Finn, where's your head today? We've done this number quite a few times since glee started. I organized this practice only to placate Mr. Schuester since he assumes a performance at Greenbriar Nursing Home warrants a refresher. It's a run-through, which normally takes about twenty minutes at the most."

She inhales at the end of her mini-rant before looking up at him expectantly, brown eyes filled with concern.

"It's nothing, Rach, really," he says quietly. She doesn't miss the way he shuffles his feet a bit and refuses to look at her when he speaks. He clears his throat before adding, "I…uh…did too many reps in weight training today so my legs aren't working too well at the moment."

"Okay," she draws out the word, letting him know that she doesn't buy his flimsy attempt at evading her question for a second. "Well, maybe we should stop for the day so _your legs _can get some rest." She chuckles dryly, turning on her heel and moving to collect her things from the edge of the stage.

She can't believe Finn's still being so childish about her relationship with Jesse. Really, his last leg to stand on went out the window when Jesse joined New Directions. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts, slips her bright pink Adidas gym bag over her shoulder and pushes through the auditorium doors.

* * *

Halfway to her car, Rachel hears someone yell her name. It's not Finn, so she spins around.

"Hey, you ran out before I could remind you," Brittany starts, all smiles. "Party tonight at my house. It's Cat Appreciation Day!"

"Right. Wouldn't miss it." The blond throws her arms around Rachel's neck and squeals in delight, then sprints back into the building.

"Cat Appreciation Day?!" Rachel mutters to herself. She shrugs and lets it slide. It's Brittany and every other thing out of that girl's mouth needs to be accompanied by an explanation or disclaimer.

Rachel has never been much of a partier but, as she starts her car and pulls onto the road, she thinks this party might provide exactly what she needs right now- a fun night, free of drama and complicated subtext.

* * *

As soon as Rachel steps through Brittany's front door, she realizes that her expectations for this party are much higher than the reality of the situation.

There are people everywhere (most of whom she's never seen before, let alone had a conversation with), the noise level is deafening and a guy spills beer down her dress and doesn't even have the decency to apologize or, at the very least, look embarrassed.

Not knowing what else to do and feeling awkward just standing in a corner, Rachel moves to the hall closet, removes her cardigan and places it on a hanger.

She hears a noise coming from behind her, someone breathing heavily, and whirls around quickly, only to feel said person's lips pressed against hers.

She pushes Jacob Ben Israel with all the force she can muster and he stumbles back a few feet. Her hand makes contact with the side of his face as she shouts, "If you ever even think about doing that again, I will use the tazer my dads bought me for my birthday on a part of your anatomy which you will miss dearly, I'm sure."

She leaves him speechless and looking suitably terrified in the living room and sprints toward the kitchen.

"I need a drink!" This exclamation is coupled with her throwing her upper body onto the island dramatically and resting her head on her arms. She _has_ seen _Funny Girl _70 plus times and if ever there was a time to employ Fanny's theatrical reaction to the Ziegfeld telegram, this is it.

Everyone in the room (most of the glee kids) laughs and Brittany hands her a Jell-O shot. She downs it in record time (no gag reflex, remember?); Matt whistles appreciatively. "Damn, Berry, you got mad skills." She smiles at the compliment.

"Got anything stronger?" The question is met with looks of shock and curiosity. Artie looks around furtively before reaching into the compartment under his seat and producing a bottle of tequila. The guys clap him on the back and the girls are impressed.

"It's the wheelchair. Nobody suspects a thing." He pours Rachel a shot before he and the guys start planning a liquor store reconnaissance mission for the following Saturday.

Rachel throws this shot back just as Quinn asks her what brought on the sudden urge for alcohol. She sputters a bit as the tequila burns the back of her throat. This is definitely not good for her vocal chords.

"That cretin Jacob Ben Israel kissed me. He's disgusting…and vile…and repulsive and…I need to go rinse with Listerine or something!" Her words come out in a rush and she yells the last part over her shoulder because she's already on her way to the bathroom.

She's in front of the sink, hunting through the medicine cabinet for mouthwash, when she registers that there are voices coming from the shower.

"Listen Finn, you have to stop being so weird about the whole 'us-having-sex' thing. Matt and I are hooking up now, so we're done. It's done," Rachel hears Santana say.

"I'm not being weird!" Finn's response is immediate and extremely loud.

"You made me get in the shower before you'd listen to me, idiot."

Rachel can't hear anything else. Her pulse is pounding in her ears as she runs back into the kitchen, grabs the bottle of tequila off the counter and runs out the front door before anyone has the wherewithal to stop her.

Finn slept with Santana. Finn slept with Santana. Finn slept with Santana. She keeps replaying the words in her mind and each time, she takes a swig of tequila as more tears run down her cheeks.

* * *

About the time her head starts feeling fuzzy and a little voice in her head tells her she shouldn't be out this late, walking alone, she sees the lights of the 7-11 come into view.

She walks toward the store, drinking, not really caring about much besides how pretty the lights in the window look, when someone shouts, "Berry? What're you doin' here?" across the parking lot.

She squints toward the sound (when did those lights get so bright?) and the blurry outline of Noah Puckerman comes into view.

He's walking in her direction and, within a few seconds, he's standing in front of her. When he notices the bottle of tequila in her hand, he snatches it away.

"Hey!" She makes a move to grab it back but he holds it out of her reach easily, given how small she is and her alcohol-soaked reflexes.

"I'm not lettin' you get arrested, Berry. There's a cop over there. I'd have to call your dads and tell them, and I don't do dads."

She starts laughing so hard tears run down her face and a snort escapes before she claps her hand to her mouth.

"Jesus, Berry, how much of this shit have you fucking had?!" He glances at the bottle, then at her, trying to mentally calculate just how drunk she is. He comes to the conclusion that she needs food, like now.

Taking her by the elbow, he leads her into the store, but not before pitching the tequila into the nearest trashcan. What a fuckin' waste.

She's talking his ear off (_what made you get rid of your mohawk? I was thinking about cutting my_ _hair; we should do a duet of Colbie Callait's "Lucky"! It's an amazing song, though we're not best friends by any stretch of the imagination…_) as they walk through the aisles. He grabs stuff off the shelves, shoves it at her and says, "Shut up and eat something before you pass out."

Rachel looks down at the pile of food she has in her arms. Powdered donuts, Little Debbie Nutty Bars, Oreos and Ritz crackers. She peels back the flap on the Oreos, taking one and twisting the top off. It's a habit borrowed from her daddy.

She's on her eighth cookie when she catches sight of something in the back corner of the store and her eyes light up. "I need a slushie!" Grabbing Noah by the hand, she attempts to drag him in the direction of the machine, but he won't budge. She peers up at him, a question poised on her lips.

"Corn syrup on top of tequila and Oreos? That'd be a fucking disaster, Berry." He answers before she can ask her question; she'll take forever and he's not in the mood.

"Please…" She bats her eyelashes, tilts her head to the side and gives him a tiny smile.

He laughs. "Nice try with the seduction, babe, but you're three sheets to the wind so what you're going for isn't really working.

Her eyes get wide and she pouts. "Nope. I'm immune to the puppy-dog eyes. My sister tries it all the time."

She looks sad for about five seconds. Then a huge grin spreads over her face. He has no fucking clue what she's up to.

"People, people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world," she sings. So that's how she's gonna play this.

"Can it, Rachel," he hisses, looking around to see if people are watching them.

"Wow! You used my first name…this is serious," she says happily. "Maybe you'd like me to select a different song, given how strong your aversion to Barbra Streisand is. That's not a problem."

Snapping her fingers a moment later, Rachel takes a deep breath and belts out (at an extremely high volume), "We don't need any money…I always get in for free. You can get in, too, if you get in with me! Let's go…out tonight! I have to go…out tonight! You wanna play, let's…"

She lets out a little squeak as Noah's hand clamps over her mouth, cutting her off mid-verse. "I'll get you a damn slushie, ok? Just…stop," he sighs.

"Victory! Yes!" She twirls around, doing this annoying little dance that he hates to admit is kind of cute. He's starting to remember how much he enjoyed hanging with her that week they dated. (Not that he'd tell her, or anyone else.)

* * *

Rachel's sitting in the passenger seat of Noah's truck, wrapped in his letter jacket (he'd thrown it at her, saying something about 'not getting fucking hypothermia just because you're too plastered to remember your coat'), sipping her grape slushie, when she has a thought that makes her choke on the crushed ice.

"Damn it!" She sees Noah look in her direction out of the corner of her eye. "Yes, Noah, I can curse. I'm a big girl."

He shoots her a thumbs up and asks, "What's up?"

"I left my car sitting in front of Brittany's house and I can't remember if I locked it."

"That's what you get for drinking a third of a bottle of tequila when you weigh like 90 pounds. You're not gonna remember too much," he says, starting the ignition. "While we're talking about not remembering shit, should you, like, text your dads or something?"

Her eyes widen in terror. She can barely force enough air into her lungs to croak, "I can't talk to them while I'm like this!" and her throat tightens like it always does when she's about to cry.

"Jesus, Rachel, calm down! I said _text_, not call. Tell them Brittany invited you to stay at her place so you'll see 'em tomorrow."

"And where do you suggest I actually sleep after telling my fathers that lie, Noah?" She's all huffy, on the road back to normal Rachel Berry behavior. At least he doesn't have to worry about her having fucking alcohol poisoning now. (He's not a complete moron and she's definitely on the smaller side so, yeah, that thought had crossed his mind once or twice.)

"The YMCA." Her jaw drops and she gives him this look and you'd think he'd just killed her cat or something. Shit. "Rachel, I was kidding. I was gonna say 'my house' right off the bat but I didn't want you to feel weird…I was trying to be funny."

The look on her face doesn't change, so he tries again. "It's cool if you stay at my house, Berry. Really."

"Your comedic delivery needs some serious work. You're aware of that, right?" She's looking out the window, toying with her straw.

"I'm a stud. I don't need to be funny."

* * *

He's putting sheets on the couch (they don't have a guest room) when Rachel comes down the stairs carrying a bunch of pillows (he'd told her to make herself useful; she'd glared at him before asking where they were).

He's not expecting one to hit him in the back of the head. He turns around. "Did you just throw a pillow at me?"

"Yep," she responds, arms crossed over her chest.

"What the fuck for?"

"You knew about Finn and Santana." It's not a question.

The missing pieces of Rachel's night fall into place for him as soon as she says the words.

He figures it's best not to deny it. "Yeah. How'd you…"

"Your phone was on your bed. I saw the text from Finn."

"Listen, Rachel," he starts, but she cuts him off.

"You could've had the decency to tell me!" she shouts, coming to stand in front of him.

"Tell you what?" he retorts hotly. "That the guy you've been mooning over for almost a year went and fucked someone else, then lied about it to your face?! That would've gone over real fucking well!"

"At least then I wouldn't have found out about it in the middle of a party!" He watches as her face visibly pales then goes kinda green. Fuck. He knows what that means. Next thing he knows, she's puking her guts up all over him.

"Well, shit, Rach. A little warning would've been nice…a 'Hey Puck, I'm gonna toss my cookies all over your carpet. You may wanna back up a bit.'" He looks at her and can tell she's about to start bawling any second.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean…"

"Eh, it's all good. It's just payback for all the slushie facials." She doesn't look convinced. "The first time I got wasted, I upchucked in some random chick's purse." That gets her to crack a little bit of a smile.

"Well, I'm gonna," he jerks his thumb toward the stairs, "go shower." She nods mutely. "You can use my mom's bathroom if you want to take one too. Her and Hannah are at some Girl Scout sleepover thing."

She follows him up the stairs and he shows her where his mom's room is. Once he's in the shower, he thinks about what just happened and smiles to himself. Rachel Berry might be closer to being a normal high school girl than he'd ever thought possible.

* * *

Rachel comes down the stairs an hour later and finds Noah on his knees, spraying the stained carpet with some sort of cleaner. She plays with the cuff of his McKinley Baseball sweatshirt (when she'd gotten out of the shower, this and a pair of his mom's pajama pants were sitting beside the sink) and clears her throat.

"Hey." He turns at the sound of her voice. "Sorry again about before."

"Would you quit apologizing? It's not a big deal. You text your dads?" She nods but doesn't say anything. He gets up and studies her for a minute. "You ok?"

She shrugs. "I've been better."

He doesn't really know how to respond because honestly, she kind of looks like hell, but there's no way he's saying that. He's not that much of a jackass, despite what some people might think.

So he says the first thing that pops into his head. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure," she says, laughing. "I've never seen this one." She takes _Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist _from where it's resting on top of the TV, reading the back of the box. "Is it good?"

"Wouldn't know." He shrugs. "The girl that watches Hannah after school left it here last week."

"You up for it?" she asks.

"Why not?"

* * *

Puck is currently holding Rachel's hair back from her face as she pukes, _again_. Dumbass fucking movie. Who the hell knew that it would show some drunk ditz stupid enough to pick her gum out of a puke-filled toilet and keep chewing it? That shit was disgusting.

At least this time, he caught her starting to look all pukey and ran to grab the trashcan from the kitchen.

It's been like five minutes and Rachel's still going strong. How all that can come out of such a small person is beyond him. He starts rubbing circles on her back because he needs a distraction and he thinks it'll help, at least a little. After another minute or so, she seems to be done and slowly lifts her head.

"Remind me to never, ever get drunk again, okay?" she asks, trying to catch her breath.

"You got it, babe."

* * *

Puck switches off the lights and the TV and looks over at Rachel. She's curled up in a blanket, sleeping soundly, her head resting on the arm of the couch and her feet touching his leg.

She'd fallen asleep about an hour before, after he'd made her drink a bottle of Gatorade and eat some crackers, and they'd watched a couple episodes of _The Nanny _on Nick at Nite (no fucking way were they finishing that _Nick and Norah _shit.)

He checks on her one more time, wraps the blanket more tightly around her and touches her cheek lightly before heading up to his room.

* * *

When Rachel gets to school on Monday morning, she pulls open the door with a feeling of dread. She doesn't know what people will have heard about her disappearance from Brittany's party (and the reason behind it). She doesn't want to know. And then there's the fact that she has to see Noah.

Granted, on Saturday morning, when he dropped her off at Brittany's to get her car, he was really sweet about everything. He'd waved off her endless stream of apologies for 'anything she'd done while under the influence', telling her to shut her trap.

Still, the way he acts when they're alone could be completely different from the way he acts at school, surrounded by his friends.

She opens her locker and her cardigan is inside, along with a note from Quinn.

_Rach-_

_You left your sweater at Brittany's the other night. Hope everything's ok. We should do lunch this weekend._

She smiles as she gathers her books together. That smile fades when she sees Finn coming towards her.

She lets out a shriek as someone taps her on the shoulder. "Jacob, I swear to God…" she starts, grabbing her purple mechanical pencil and brandishing it in front of her like a weapon as she spins around.

"Fuck, Rach, jumpy much?!" She breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes it's Noah.

"Noah, I'm sorry! I thought you were…"

"That whiny douche that's always hanging around you?" he finishes, moving in front of her. She knows he's blocking her from Finn's view and she appreciates the gesture immensely. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint, babe."

She laughs, grabs her books and closes her locker. They both have American History first period and she thinks he may actually be attending today.

"Hey, you wanna watch _RENT _this weekend?" he asks casually.

"Sure!" She smiles. "Why?"

"Let's just say I never had any interest in watching it until last weekend." He smirks down at her.

"Oh, God! What did I do?!"

He says nothing and starts walking faster.

"Noah! You had better tell me what I did this instant!" Her voice carries the length of the hallway and people turn to gape at this crazy girl.

Puck spins, sends her a smile and shrugs. This was gonna be fun.


End file.
